


The Best Day of the War

by sharkcar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anthropology, Avenging, Childhood Heroes, Clone Wars, Clone Wine, Duty, Epic Poetry, Fairy Tales, Fame, Family, Force Bond (Star Wars), Friendship, Heroes & Heroines, I Hate Sand (Star Wars), Inspiration, Jedi, Jedi Code, Jedi Culture, Jedi Temple, Justice, Loss, Mythology - Freeform, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Rebellion, Republic Issue Soap, Republic Nutrition Rations, Revenge, Silly Names, Sith, Skywalker Name, Soldiers, Subversive Literature, Suffering, Tatooine, Tatooine Slave Culture, The Dark Side of the Force, Togrutas, War, Zygerria, clone culture, faith - Freeform, legacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7012054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkcar/pseuds/sharkcar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ahsoka finds Ezra despondent after his Jedi Master doesn't trust him to handle himself, Ahsoka reassures him that it takes some time and that she got her own master to trust her. She reflects on how she connected with Anakin, but only by journeying to some of his darkest places in his mind. While on a mission to free enslaved Togruta colonists, he struggles with painful memories of his life as a slave. Ahsoka helps share his burden and keep his emotions in check, but only, she realizes later, at her own expense. The mission proves successful and feels like a total victory, but perhaps only because of the sadness that follows. Still, she muses, you have to find moments of humor and joy even in sorrow, as she remembers her best day of the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Day of the War

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue taken from "Attack of the Clones" by George Lucas and the Clone Wars episode, "Kidnapped" by Henry Gilroy.

Back when I was growing up at the Jedi Temple, for training we had real facilities, with simulators and equipment. I especially liked to run the obstacle courses with the other younglings, all of us jumping and scrambling, screaming and laughing. It was one of the only things we were allowed to do that could be described as fun. Jedi are supposed to learn to be serious, cautious. But as kids, we were insanely energetic. With our training, our teachers taught us to keep our minds and our bodies under control. Force wielders have a lot of abilities that when combined with childhood energy made us dangerous if not kept in check. We had to be taken to the Jedi Temple early to protect us from hurting someone. We were trained from the minute we got there. If trained, our superhuman abilities could be put to good use, helping keep the galaxy safe. Despite the training, I have found that even now I don’t do very well with staying still.  
  
That was always a problem my master, Anakin, and I both had. We were overactive. He was not rescued from Tatooine soon enough to train him as a small youngling. He was rebellious and his powers were immense. Therefore, he had always had trouble mastering self-control. He might have really hurt someone innocent someday, maybe he did, I don’t know. I know that some members of the Jedi Council were worried about that. Therefore, Anakin was given as a padawan to one of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy at that time. Master Kenobi had actually defeated a real Sith. He was legendary; strong, confident, dedicated, with courtly manners to boot. It was generally believed that if anyone could make Anakin into a Jedi, he could. He vowed that he would. And he did. Even in that terrible war, Obi-Wan remained a true Jedi for the rest of his life.  
  
Nowadays, to get my activity in, I had to work with more Spartan conditions. I had to train on my own. I would mostly run out into the wilderness until I couldn’t run any more, making my own obstacle course of whatever the landscape provided. I spent most of my hours of the day getting to know the terrain, being a wild thing of nature. I was always told that I was too unpredictable. Even Master Anakin said that.  
  
Anakin was reckless and had a short temper for a Jedi, but he at least believed that he had a plan. His were big plans that the rest of us couldn’t see until they came to fruition. He seemed reckless, but most of the time, he thought he had already foreseen all possible outcomes and he grew impatient when others preached caution. He was confident that he knew better than everyone else. It was like he had access to secret knowledge. I know now that it was because he utilized the Dark Side. He did things that were not permitted for a Jedi. He read minds without permission. He looked into the future. He kept secrets. He struggled to control his impulses, but I knew that it was difficult because he had always used both sides of the Force long before the Jedi ever found him.  
  
I understood him by the end, better than most. I crossed the line between light and dark myself. When I left master, it had been my choice. By then, the only difference between my master and me was that I realized that my ambiguity meant that I could never commit to one side of the Force or be a true Jedi. I had not conquered my demons and I had no desire to. Anakin thought he could play both roles, being a powerful Jedi and allowing himself to indulge in the temptations of the dark. He thought he was strong enough, but no one is that strong.  
  
\--  
  
I don’t ally with the light or the dark exclusively these days. But these days the galaxy is out of balance and it has suffered for it. Say what you want about the Jedi being traitors to the Republic, that is just Imperial propaganda. People only pretend to believe it. Even though I’m not a Jedi, I know that the galaxy was a better place with the Jedi in it.  
  
What everybody really thinks about Anakin is that he was our hero, and he was taken from us. He was a hero to the Jedi, the clones, the Republic. He was feared by his enemies. Even droids worshiped him as a god. His life was the stuff of legend. He’d been loved by royalty and freed others from slavery. The stories about him are many and hardly any of them are made up. He belonged to all of us. What makes it even more compelling is that no one had any clear idea of where he went, only the cold reality that he went away. Many, even Rex, blamed the clones. I blamed the Sith. But the Jedi had played their part as well.  
  
I wonder often if it had to be that way. From what I gather, at the end of the war, Obi-Wan and Anakin were separated. Those decisions were made by the Jedi Council. It was a bad idea. Those two were unstoppable together. It was unreal, the things they pulled off together. They would have escaped any attempt on their lives. They would have defeated the Sith, they kept each other focused when they fought side by side. Supposedly, Obi-Wan died alone on Utapau, struck down by his Clone Commander, Cody, and his men. He had fallen from high on a rock wall, his body careening down and crashing into a cold watery sinkhole. His bones lie at the bottom of the hole, deep in the planet core. That’s what the Imperial propaganda reported after Commander Cody testified at the hearings. He claimed, as most clone commanders did, that he had identified General Kenobi as a threat during the battle when he said something inflammatory, like ‘Death to the Republic,’ or ‘The Jedi will conquer the galaxy!’ or some other poorly written melodramatic nonsense. It sounded fake. They made it sound as if Obi-Wan had gone from gentleman Jedi to power-mad monster with no cause at all. Nobody believed that. The story was meant to stage Cody as a hero, maybe make him over into another politician at the Emperor’s command. But it backfired. After his testimony, Cody was hated all over the galaxy. I don’t know what ever happened to him.  
  
Anakin was seen on Coruscant shortly before the Jedi Purge. I thought he might have run. When I had first heard about what happened and that he had disappeared, I hoped that he and Padme had gotten away and could be together at last. Then at least he would have been free of the conflict tearing him apart. But then she was found dead. If Anakin was out there in the galaxy, he was alone and angry. That was dangerous state for someone as powerful as him to be in. I didn’t know if it would be better if he was dead. Though something that happened recently, has given me doubts about that. If he's out there, I know I have to find him.  
  
The war had changed me. If there had been no war, I may have remained on the Light Side. Maybe then, I could have been training students like Kanan was. I was jealous of Kanan sometimes, that he remained so pure even after all he had suffered. As it was, I couldn’t stay in the light. I knew the dark. I had actually asked to be shown it.  
  
\--  
  
One day, I was coming back from one of my training runs. Ezra saw me coming back, thoroughly spent. He was just sitting alone on a crate, his arms crossed over his knees. I threw myself down on the crate next to him. I needed to rest before a shower. I had some nice soap. After years spent tolerating military rations, I felt I’d earned comforts.  
  
“Hi, Ezra. How’s it going?” I looked off at the sky in the direction he was looking. I was still a little out of breath.  
  
“I’m fine. Just bored. Kanan told me to stay behind on another mission. He says I’m too young.”  
  
“My Master used to say that to me, too. But he learned to trust me.”  
  
“How long did that take?”  
  
“It felt like forever. We turned it around though. I think it was about the time we went on the Citadel mission, definitely by the time I was captured by some Trandoshian hunters. I proved that I could take care of myself and make my own decisions. We respected one another. We were full partners after that,” I was not bragging. I was nothing less than the only apprentice of the most famous Jedi in history. I knew what I was talking about. “He’s just trying to protect you. You’ll get your chance, Ezra.”  
  
“So the day you finally got him to trust you, was that like, the best day of the war for you?”  
  
The best day of the war? You could say that there are no good days in war. But even in the worst circumstances, you can’t be sad all the time or let yourself get overwhelmed with the tragedy. You need to share each other’s company, you need to be proud of yourselves, you need to laugh. Sometimes stories do end happily, you end a mission or a day and it can feel like a total victory. Imagine the music rise just like in holo-vid shows and the story ends with a quick swipe to stars. Those are the days that you feel invincible, as if you have conquered not just your enemies, but mastered yourself as well. Then you get that picture perfect ending, where everyone gets their successful resolution. “My best day of the war? No, it wasn’t after the Citadel.” That day had ended with a long briefing of the Jedi Council with the sensitive intelligence I had been given. Meetings are excruciating. No best day of anything ever included a meeting. “It wasn’t even after that thing with the hunters.” That day had been better, coming home to Coruscant. But I was carrying some sadness with me about the Jedi youngling I couldn’t rescue. No, the best day was another day. “The best day of the war for me was probably the day we brought some rescued prisoners of the war back to their homes on Kiros. That day, was maybe the best day of my life.”  
  
\--  
  
What made it sweet was not just that it was a day of perfect happiness for everyone I was with, but it was also the last time during the war that I can say we had that. Everything after that went so wrong.  
  
The best day of the war had started on the ship back to Kiros.  
  
The end of the previous day’s battle had been the stuff epics are made of. We staged a daring rescue and didn’t lose a single innocent life. We loaded into transports and were brought to a Jedi cruiser that night. The night was mostly spent handing out supplies, helping the colonists to the cots we set up in the commissary. Not much was available to eat but nutrition rations and they were just terrible, but the colonists hadn’t eaten much in weeks so they didn’t complain.  
  
When we woke up, the ship was in hyperspace. Everyone was still exhilarated, joking and talking animatedly with everyone we ran into as the ship rode us to Kiros. By the end of the day, I even danced. For the first time in my life, I threw back my head in laughter. I hugged all of my friends more than once. Nothing bad had happened that day to dampen our spirits. In a war, that is a rare thing indeed.  
  
And I was the hero. It was the day that people told my story on the Holo-net news, not Anakin’s, not Obi-Wan’s. It became a patriotic story on Shili, my home planet. They published it as a storybook for children to read in schools, at least until the end of the war, when pro-Jedi literature was banned under the Empire. I never had a copy of it, so I can’t say how good it was. But there was a cartoon version of me from it that I have seen replicated on subversive graffiti. She’s cute. I’d wear her on a shirt.  
  
\--  
  
We had started this particular mission like many others, on military transports arriving on a new planet. We went to Kiros, searching for missing colonists. They were my people, Togrutas from Shili, who had founded the settlement as a peaceful artists’ sanctuary. They didn’t keep much in the way of technology, preferring to live off the land and in harmony with nature. It sounded fantastic. The planet was beautiful.  
  
The colonists were defenseless when Count Dooku came. When the Separatists arrived, they didn’t wipe out the colonists or occupy the planet. Before this point in the war, we didn’t know that there was something worse the Separatists could do to people than what they were doing already. We were wrong. They rounded them up at blaster point and sold them to Zygerrian slavers.  
  
The day we got there, we were thinking it would be a simple prisoner situation, like Obi-Wan had faced on Ryloth. They would have the prisoners somewhere, we would rescue them. Battle over. By then, daring rescues were easy stuff for us. We were surprised to find no one there except a bunch of droids. We took them out and then established a perimeter around the governor’s residence where the enemy was holed up.  
  
“Cody, any word from the Separatist commander?” Master Obi-Wan asked.  
  
“He’s barricaded inside. His name is Darts D’Nar.” I stifled a snicker as Cody said it. Some names just sound funny. “He has sent you a message, Sir.” Cody held out a holo-viewer and switched it on. The image of the Zygerrian appeared on the viewer.  
  
“Master Kenobi, come to the tower, we will...negotiate terms for surrender,” the predatory feline face matched the menacing voice.  
  
“Well, that was easy,” Master Kenobi said.  
  
Anakin had seen what was happening and walked over, his shoulders high like a stalking gundark. He knew instantly what it meant and he reacted, Force pulling the viewer and crushing it to dust in his prosthetic hand. He had been tinkering with it lately to increase its strength and durability. Never give a prodigy mechanic his own droid parts. “Zygerrian scum! I’ll handle that slaver!” he roared.  
  
Obi-Wan stalked over to him, “Anakin, he asked for me. I need you to locate the missing Togruta colonists.” He was always good at standing up to Anakin. He showed no fear of Anakin the way many of the other Jedi did. Anakin always backed down to him. It was as if he wanted Obi-Wan’s approval more than anything. He made fun often, suggesting that Obi-Wan didn’t listen to him, but those two were closer than any two Jedi in the Order. They never fought with real anger, more bickering. They had too much respect for each other, I thought. Our friend Padme claimed that it was too much love.  
  
Anakin wrinkled his face in pain. “Fine. I’ll have Admiral Yularen initiate a planetary bio-scan.” He recovered himself. But his flash of anger worried me. There was something not right.  
  
I went to Obi-Wan. I could not be kept in the dark any more, no matter how much everyone wanted to protect my master. “Why is he so upset,” I asked, trying to sound casual as if I didn’t know that something serious had just happened.  
  
“Anakin has never talked about his past, has he?” Master Obi-Wan said carefully.  
  
“Only to tell me he won’t talk about it.”  
  
“As a child, Anakin and his mother were sold into slavery by the Hutt clans,” he said sadly.  
  
“Oh…” I felt like I had really stepped in it this time, “And these Zygerrians. They’re slavers.”  
  
“Anakin is struggling to put his past behind him,” Master Kenobi looked like he was pained.  
  
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him,” I looked over at him as he was frowning at a hologram of Admiral Yularen.  
  
“Yes, make sure you do.” Master Obi-Wan never showed fear to Anakin, but he knew not to underestimate him. He knew how disastrous it could be if Master got out of control.  
  
Obi-Wan left to distract Darts D’Nar (wow, that name is still funny to me), while we went to diffuse bombs planted all over the colony. By those days of the war, Master and I were working together like a perfect team when we saw action. We had each other’s backs and could anticipate each other. We shared a connection through the Force that allowed us to communicate. We made it look easy. In the end, Master even trusted me to go after D’Nar. He did not insist upon it himself, which he would have if he needed revenge. There was a brief moment where I thought he might kill the slaver when we caught him, but he kept his emotions in check. I was proud of us.  
  
Master Kenobi had negotiated by taking a ragged beating by old Darts to buy us enough time to disable the bombs. Master Anakin, Captain Rex, Cody, and I went to visit him in the camp infirmary that we set up while we got ready to go after the colonists on Zygerria. Everyone was telling jokes about how Obi-Wan would get beaten up and still maintain his polite composure. We sat with him doing our impressions of him and saying things like, “Excuse me, sir, I seem to have soiled your rug with my blood. Terribly sorry.” Or, “I beg your pardon, but if you would not mind, I would like to pick up the teeth you just punched out of my head. Might I trouble you for a broom?” Or, “That hit to my stomach was a bit hard, by your leave, I’m afraid I must take a moment to throw up. We can continue our negotiations in just a moment.” They went on and on. It was a fun afternoon and a welcome respite from thinking about the disturbing fate of the colonists.  
  
Eventually, we made our plans. We would go undercover to Zygerria and try to lead the colonists out, freeing any other slaves we could as well. We all thought we really could do it, just charge right in and save the day.  
  
\--  
  
A few days later, we were on our way to Zygerria. Doubts started to set in.  
  
Rex was constantly in the ship gymnasium training his men in hand to hand and simple weapon combat. It was some special Mandalorian optional training he and Cody had done at the Clone Academy in the early days. There was always a threat that we could be captured on this mission and we were prepared to die or be prisoners or be tortured but had never been prepared to be made into slaves. Rex felt that slaves, being disarmed, needed to learn how to fight with objects at hand. He would bring out increasingly mundane objects and the clones would come up with ways to use them as weapons. They spent their training mixing and matching objects to spar with, it actually looked like fun, which I think Rex was doing on purpose. The other clones weren’t even going with us to the planet, but Rex was requiring it. He said he trained himself best by teaching. He was the only clone to be on the Zygerria force, since he was the only one with specialized training to assist on Jedi missions. He was the only clone who ever got that level of clearance during the war, as far as I knew. Clones were conditioned to have no fear. With his experience, Rex was a really lethal soldier. Years later, I was glad he joined the Rebellion. I was also glad that he never lost his sense of humor.  
  
Master Obi-Wan spent a lot of time meditating. He was an extremely compassionate Jedi. Institutions or events where there was great suffering could make him feel physically ill. He was fighting to master his emotions so he would be clear for the mission. He was only coming out of his quarters to eat and drink. He looked terrible, his eyes were sunken and he was pale like he hadn’t slept in days. If you wanted my bet, he was feeling guilty about Anakin. Padme had told me once that the Jedi had forced Anakin to stay away from his mother and he couldn’t even go to save her life. Now that I knew she had been a slave, I realized just how helpless she must have been to protect herself. In that situation, there had been no way for Master Kenobi to be both an obedient Jedi and to help Anakin. No good options, only the lesser of two evils. I think it haunted him.  
  
I was concerned that I hadn’t seen Master Skywalker in a while. At first, I thought that he was doing the same as Obi-Wan. Instead, I eventually found him after lights out in the gym in a training uniform. He had a sturdy sand bag in front of him and he was beating and kicking it viciously. He was growling with every effort as if he was about to pounce on it and maul it to shreds like an anooba.  
  
“Anakin!” I said loudly enough that he could hear.  
  
“What!” he roared and turned. I took a step back, I actually thought he might hurt me. The look on his face was inhuman. He was breathing heavily. My montrals registered a threat.  
  
But the strangest thing happened, I stood my ground. I just told myself, ‘But this is Anakin.’ And I knew he’d never hurt me.  
  
“I’m sorry Ahsoka.” He raised his palms. He was ashamed that he’d made me afraid.  
  
“Master, when were you going to tell me?”  
  
He wiped sweat off his brow with his palm and sat heavily on the floor. “Never. Do you think I even want to remember?”  
  
At least he was talking to me, I thought. It was worse when he got silent. “Your pain is obviously affecting you. Why won’t you let me help you? Why don’t you trust me?”  
  
“I can’t. The things I’ve known, nobody should know them. The things I’ve seen, they hurt too much. I can’t let you carry that. You don’t know what you’re asking for. Please, Ahsoka, don’t ask me to show you. They will affect you, too.”  
  
“Obi-Wan knows, doesn’t he?”  
  
“No. He doesn’t want to know. He just wants me to let go. He doesn’t know why I can’t.”  
  
I wanted to ask if Padme knew, but he’d never actually told me that they were together. I’d figured it out. “But I have been trained to handle it. Master, trust me. I can’t be your pupil if you won’t connect with me.”  
  
“These last few days have been agony. Please, I don’t think I can show you everything. I’m not ready to remember it.”  
  
“Please, Master!”  
  
He seemed to relent, “I…I just need my head to stop hurting a little bit.” He hung his head low.  
  
We went to his quarters. The place looked like it had imploded, all of the electronics had been smashed, metal drawers were crumpled, even the walls were dented inwards. Anakin dropped wearily to the floor and I knelt beside him. We stayed side by side and closed our eyes. I let myself fall into the dark.  
  
I found myself on a street in a dusty city. The heat was excruciating, with two suns shining mercilessly overhead. Every doorway was half buried in sand. Everything looked dirty in shades of tan and gray. Every structure and object looked old and used, with chipped paint and scratches. Trash and animal droppings lay around everywhere. Flies buzzed over the piles in clouds. The smell was excruciating. Womp rats lounged on heaps of debris, panting lazily in the sun. Sentient beings were everywhere, all of them looking miserable. I knew from Master that this was Mos Espa, where he grew up. He was being carried by his mother. I could see her face, her head wrapped in a shawl of cheap cloth. Her hands were well muscled and coarse from hard labor. But her face was gentle, if careworn. Her hair was shining and brown like inlaid wood on an antique table. Through her son’s eyes, she was positively angelic. She was everything to him, his whole world. His heart filled with love as he hugged her neck.  
  
He remembered that he had always asked her for stories in the years before. She had told him what she could about when she was a little girl. She told him that when she was small, she was kept as a pet. She was led around on a golden chain by her Zygerrian mistress. When she’d told the story, Anakin had looked into her mind without her permission, taking secrets she never admitted even to herself. This action was forbidden for a Jedi, but he had been a small boy when he had developed the power and he did not have the Jedi around to teach him such things were wrong. He saw her memories of being a pet slave. She played on the floor like an animal, she even imitated animals if requested, and was laughed at. She was held and hugged, but if she was bad, she would be hit or kicked. Bad was a relative term, being on a chain she wasn’t free to do anything, so ‘bad’ depended on the mistress’s mood, which changed often. Sometimes when the mistress got bored with her, she was left chained in a room, only being given table scraps to eat if anything at all. She stayed there for weeks sometimes, in the foul smelling dark, alone and scared. Then other slaves would have to get her cleaned up. They were not kind. She was treated roughly by them, hit sometimes until she was exhausted. Then she was brought back to her mistress, so relieved to be back in her favor that she clung to her mistress’s legs, trembling and saying she was sorry.  
  
While walking in Mos Espa, Anakin was a very small child. About four years old, I think. He saw a Zygerrian at an outdoor table in a cantina. His mother was carrying him along, with a tank of water strapped to her back, going to do the shopping. Anakin saw the man who was just like his mother had described, with the feline face. “Mom!” He pointed at the Zygerrian, “Mom, why doesn’t he have a little girl on a chain like you used to be?” He meant it as a genuine question, he was curious. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but his mother blushed. The Zygerrian laughed. Anakin didn’t like the way the man leered at his mother, as if she was food. He didn’t like what the man’s thoughts were when he read them. The Zygerrian had stood and followed them.  
  
Anakin’s mother was afraid for her safety and her son’s. Anakin was afraid, too. She walked quickly, but the slaver caught up with her. He grabbed her arm, “Come here, slave,” he said roughly. She dropped Anakin into the sand and fell to the ground closing her eyes tight, waiting for the pain she thought would follow. The Zygerrian maintained his grip on her, digging his long nails into her arm. Anakin was sprawled face down on the ground. He breathed in sand, it was in his eyes, his nose, hot against his face. He thought about how much he hated sand. And he hated that man and what he was doing. Anakin put his fists to his ears in pain and screamed loudly as the man was launched backwards against a wall, which cracked with the impact. This was the first time in his life he felt the power of the Force.  
  
Another man, a human this time, came running up. “What happened to him?” He grabbed the water tank roughly from the ground and threw some water over the Zygerrian to rouse him.  
  
Anakin’s mother had had her eyes closed since she’d been grabbed. She kept her eyes downcast as she stood. “He…he must have stumbled,” she picked up Anakin and hugged him closely. She left the water. It was worth a fortune on Tatooine and she was going to be in trouble for losing it. Probably beaten. Her face was hot and she was mortified. But she scuttled away, just grateful to have survived.  
  
I felt it was some time later. I was in a house, one that looked like it is built of mud plaster to keep it cool. The lights were on low power mode, so it was dim inside. Anakin came down the stairs from his bedroom. His mother was sitting at the table and she was crying. Anakin ran to her. She tried to stop crying, but couldn’t, his presence just made her sob harder. He was worried that it was his fault. He didn’t understand, but said, “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to be bad.”  
  
She sobbed into his shoulder and began to rock him. He patted her on the back. He read her mind. She was overwhelmed with the humiliation, of all she’d had done to her, to be treated like an animal, to be treated like a thing, to be worth only what use others felt like making of her, and helpless to make it stop. She thought of him, but didn’t know he heard. ‘My son, when you came to me, I wanted you. Selflessly, I chose to be your mother so that you could live. But part of me wanted you for a selfish reason. I wanted you to protect me. I imagined you in my mind as powerful and strong, everything I was not. And you are. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, but I know I have to let you go, to save you from this. You are my everything, little boy. I love you.’  
  
I saw him back in the desert, a vast flat expanse of yellow sand in every direction. Master Anakin was in his padawan regalia, kneeling on the ground. He spoke, “I wasn’t strong enough to save you, Mom. I wasn’t strong enough. But I promise, I won’t fail again.” He stood up, “I miss you…so…much.” Then I heard master, thinking. ‘I couldn’t save her. I felt like that helpless little boy again. I hate him for being weak. I can never be weak again. I will never get on my knees again before another master.’  
  
I was so cold. I was drowning in the dark and desperate for a breath. The fear, the anger, the hate. I was overwhelmed by them. The pain was unbearable.  
  
I woke up on the floor where I’d fainted, I sat up slowly and gathered my strength, putting my palm to my forehead. Anakin was kneeling beside me, his eyes still closed. I took a deep breath and opened myself to the light side of the Force, letting it wash over me like healing water. His mother was at peace now, part of the cosmic Force. I reached out to Master through the Force, ‘Let me help you. You don’t have to carry your burdens alone.’  
  
I heard him answer back, ‘Please, no more.’  
  
\--  
  
Neither of us acknowledged it when we finally stood. But it was still there between us. He had trusted me enough to show me his weakness for once. I lowered my chin, crossed my arms and raised my eyes to him, “Master, we need a new plan.”  
  
Strictly from a tactical point of view, Anakin’s state of mind had to be factored in as a liability. Even he didn’t want to jeopardize the mission, so he surrendered his pride. We went to Obi-Wan. We were going to Zygerria but we had a chance to entice Count Dooku into facing us. Like the Jedi, the Sith can anticipate actions and unlike us, they have no problem reading minds. They can also use negative feelings against you. When fighting a Sith, they throw you off balance by feeding off of your pain. We had to find a way to disorient our enemies.  
  
Obi-Wan was a brilliant strategist in both Jedi and military matters. He knew old techniques that had been used by Jedi in the past. Obi-Wan decided that we should attempt a kind of mental ruse so that Dooku would not focus on Anakin. It was a cunning move. We would each keep our minds focused giving off the illusion of flawed states to make us look fragile. This would draw out our enemy and make him think he could best us by attacking these weaknesses. Dooku’s overconfidence would make him believe it. Then, when the time was right, we could strike when our enemies had underestimated our strength. We each were assigned a weakness to play up. I was supposed to play helpless, first as I was pretending to be a slave, then I would act as if I couldn’t escape on my own. Obi-Wan had to play weak, he would try to find the colonists and stay with them so that he could protect them no matter what happened. Since Anakin’s state of mind was already in distress, Obi-Wan told him to clear his mind. He told him to play stupid.  
  
Anakin had a great sense of humor. It turned out that Zygerria was led by a queen who didn’t hide how attractive she found him. Anakin decided to cast himself as man-candy. It didn’t take himself seriously, which helped to keep him from getting overwhelmed. He was over the top. He swaggered. He was smoldering. He was dashing. He made the Zygerrian queen fall in love with him and she willingly gave him the information to save the colonists and his friends. And he, without emotion, let her die from injuries Dooku inflicted, a fate her own decisions had earned her. Anakin therefore had nothing to feel remorse over. He didn’t even enjoy her death, but instead felt sorry for her. He was a great Jedi that day. He had helped others despite his own pain.  
  
\--  
  
When we left Zygerria, we had to go to Kadavo to rescue Obi-Wan, Rex, and the Togruta colonists from a mine. We didn’t know if they were alive or dead. Anakin started to slip again, he was worried about his friends. I asked him to talk to me, but he was back to his silent state, shutting me out. I couldn’t let him risk the lives of us all because he was stubborn. I was the only one who could help my master, but I knew it was going to be delicate work. Compassion was the key.  
  
I found him meditating. “Master?”  
  
“What is it?” he turned his head to the side, but didn’t rise.  
  
“I was headed to the commissary. I was wondering if you might like to keep me company. This mission has me really emotional. You know, these are my people, it makes it feel…personal. Would you mind if I talk about it?” It was the truth. Also, I was trying to teach by example.  
  
“You know I am always here for you,” he said. He felt strong, not weak.  
  
We went to the mess to see what was available. Republic nutrition rations looked to be about it. We both passed. Anakin had some of the weak wine the clones were making. They brought fuel jugs full of the stuff to all the meals. It was made out of powdered juice rations the guys brought from Kamino. The 501st was famous for it. They had crudely painted Captain Rex’s picture on the side of the fuel jugs and gave them as gifts to other clone squadrons. I thought it smelled awful, but the clones said that they probably couldn’t smell much after being raised around the heavy duty Kaminoan cleaning fluid. I just drank water.  
  
“Master, I am worried that I won’t be able to contain my anger, when we see what these slavers have done to my people. I’m worried that I will not be able to keep my focus, that I might want to take revenge.”  
  
“Wanting to take revenge is natural. When someone takes something from you or someone you care about, you feel like it would be justice to take something from them.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“But we have to control ourselves and remember that revenge takes something from us, too. It is selfish to need someone else to suffer to make ourselves feel better. We react when threatened, or protect the weak, but even though the Jedi are strong, handing out punishments is not our purpose.” He had really grown up into a wise master by then.  
  
“Have you ever wanted to take revenge?”  
  
“I won’t lie. I have.” I didn’t know if he meant he had wanted to, or he had done it. “But I know that I was wrong. I am not perfect, Ahsoka, but I was sorry. I am trying, every day, to make up for it.” He sounded so sad. “As I will keep trying to make up for all the things I’ve done wrong.”  
  
\--  
  
On the rescue, he fought bravely. There were moments where I was worried he was going to lose control. But he would see my face and I could sense him regain composure. He cared about what I thought of him. We rescued the colonists and I personally got them to Master Plo’s ships. The holo-net news loved the story of the Togruta who saved her people. It was played up by the Republic to gain support for the war effort.  
  
Afterwards, the governor of the colony wanted to speak to me alone.  
  
“Do you know who you are among your people, Ahsoka Tano?”  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Some Togruta have kept pictures of Shaak-Ti and the other Togruta Jedi in our homes. Since the start of the war, we have pictures of you too. We always watch the news of your exploits. For us, the stories are always about you. You inspire us.” That was what I knew I was meant to do for the rest of my life.  
  
\--  
  
The next day was my best day of the war. We arrived with the colonists back to Kiros and they insisted that we stay for a festival in honor of their liberation. We helped them set up tables and lights outside. Everyone worked together all day and the anticipation of the evening had us all elated. They started the music at sundown.  
  
Master co-opted a passing supply ship with food and drink and invited the ship’s crew to celebrate with us. Anakin contacted Chancellor Palpatine on the holo-net and told him, not asked him, told the leader of the Republic, that he would be paying the compensation to the shipping company for the supplies, with a little extra for the trouble. The clones and I were sitting around him when he made the call, laughing.  
  
The chancellor just sighed and shook his head. “Well Anakin, it appears I have no choice in the matter. Of course, tell them to send me the bill. But if this little celebration of yours is going to cost me a small fortune, please do be sure to drink a toast in my honor.” Afterwards, Anakin led one, but everyone mumbled, “To the Chancellor” pretty unenthusiastically. The clones and I were not fans. It was funny. For a while after that, the clones and I used it as an informal greeting on ship, saluting each other and practically yawning and rolling our eyes as we said, “To the Chancellor.”  
  
I sensed that night that Master had gone through a catharsis. He was full of light like I had never seen him. He believed he was fully committed to what he believed was his destiny, to be the greatest Jedi ever and to save the galaxy from the war. It was a relief to me at the time. He looked unburdened by conflict for once and I thought that I really was starting to help him. On that night, anyway, he was devoted to his vocation.  
  
It was a relief for me, too. He had been skirting disaster for years and I had been afraid for him. He had been vacillating between love and duty, feeling guilty that he had strayed from his path as a Jedi when he pursued his relationship with Padme. He had tried to withdraw from Padme for a time. She grew impatient. She requested him for her official missions and he gave in, first on Mon Cal, then in Gungan territory. On Naboo, Padme had let General Grievous go to save him. Master realized then that the relationship had become a liability to their duties. He could not be fully committed both to duty and to Padme and she couldn’t either. He finally decided after Zygerria to choose the Jedi and be more humble, serving others and not just what he wanted. It didn’t last, though. Like he said, he wasn’t perfect. Maybe if I’d stayed with him, in time he could have let go of the past. Maybe I could have kept him on his path. Maybe I could have saved his life. I might never know.  
  
Obi-Wan was also beaming at the celebration. Hundreds of years before, the Jedi had been the ones who destroyed the Zygerrian slave empire. He felt that he had made his order proud by keeping the slave empire broken. He always was a scholar of history, it appealed to him to defeat an ancient enemy of the Jedi. He was also feeling that he had emerged victorious over himself. The Zygerrians had tried to break him. They had put him to work in the mine with the colonists and whenever he tried to resist the slavers or help someone, they punished others. Obi-Wan had even had his ability for compassion and selflessness, the core principles of the Jedi Order, taken away from him. Afterwards on Kiros, he felt like he had passed the test. He had stopped resisting so that others would not be hurt, and when he was freed, he did not take revenge on the unarmed warden as he escaped. No matter how much they tried to crush Obi-Wan’s spirit, he never gave up his principles. But then, Rex was there to do the killing for him. Even that night, he still remained his introspective self. I overheard him talking to Anakin while I was standing with Master Plo.  
  
“I do wonder if I should have intervened,” Master Kenobi always enjoyed being philosophical.  
  
“The soldiers have their duty to the Republic and are bound by its laws. Rex was just doing his job. Just because we Jedi are strong, doesn’t mean that we get to decide what is just, Master,” Anakin was even enjoying it.  
  
“Have you really learned that, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked.  
  
“Yes, Master.”  
  
“You have struggled with this. I am gratified that even the lessons I have taught you in the past have stayed with you, even if you didn’t seem to learn them at the time.”  
  
“I am still trying, Master.”  
  
He and Anakin spent the rest of the evening with their arms around each other’s backs, drinking and laughing. They were so much like brothers then.  
  
I know that for Obi-Wan, like most of the Jedi, his compassion was used against him and he was killed by those he chose to trust with his life. The clones had been engineered to turn on their commanders. But it might have turned out the same way even if they had not been. The Dark Side of the Force was so strong in people in those days. Betrayal is a powerful tool for evil and people are capable of despicable things when tempted. I knew that Cody had harbored some resentment against Obi-Wan. He had always been strict with the rules, where Anakin was more lax. Technically, Cody out-ranked Rex and didn’t know why Rex was always treated like the clone in command on missions, even by Obi-Wan. Control chip or not, Cody didn’t have to betray Obi-Wan’s memory by telling those outlandish lies.  
  
On the night of the celebration Rex and Cody were standing together like brothers, too, smacking each other on the shoulders as they talked. They held their cups the same way. Rex had been with Obi-Wan in the mine, working his hardest in order to try to give the others some relief. Obi-Wan said that he had worked himself to exhaustion every day. Clones were conditioned to obey orders and protect others. He couldn’t stop working, even when his own life was threatened. He could have worked himself to death if he’d stayed in there much longer.  
  
“Having fun, guys?” I needed some water so I went to where he was standing by the drinks.  
  
“Ahsoka,” he nodded, “Tell Cody! He doesn’t believe me, what was the name of the queen?”  
  
I laughed, “Miraj Scintel.”  
  
They leaned heavily on each other and laughed. Finally Cody said, “I said that sounds like one of the girls at the Tchun-Tchin Club!”  
  
Rex backhand punched Cody in the chest and gave him a sour look. “Watch it in front of the younglings!” Cody just laughed. “Sorry, Commander, this one isn’t quite housebroken,” Rex saluted me casually.  
  
“Relax,” I said, “I know what that is.” The Tchun-Thchin was a strip club on Coruscant. “So what do you guys think? I heard that some people back home are protesting clone treatment, comparing you guys to slaves.”  
  
“We’re not. Slaves are forced to do things against their will. We want to do our duty with honor and dignity,” he was somewhat hurt at the insinuation. Cody nodded too.  
  
The other clones had a good time at the celebration themselves, laughing, drinking, talking loudly. As I circulated about the party, I saw Wolffe, Boost, and Sinker in a drinking contest with the Togruta governor. Kix and Jesse were passing out the 501st wine. The supply ship crew was playing some kind of ball game against a clone team. I accidentally walked up on Fives kissing one of the colonists and backed away quietly.  
  
When I think about the clones now, knowing that almost all of them are dead, it still hurts. So many of them had felt like family to me, like a giant bunch of big brothers. They were humans, engineered to take advantage of their creative thinking on the battlefield. But in the end, most of them had their free will taken away. Then they were left to try to reconcile what they’d done on their own. I can’t even imagine the conflict that must have caused some of them. They were devoted to duty and loyal to their friends, then one day they could not be both. The only reason Rex escaped was that he knew what was coming and he had to run for his life because of it, helpless to stop it. Not every one of them had turned but all of them paid for it. There was no dignity in what happened to them.  
  
The night of the party, the weather was warm. The Togruta did folkdances and insisted I join. I felt pretty clumsy trying to fake my way through them, but it was fun. I was better at the ball game, where I played a round on the 501st team. The colonists kept coming up to me and hugging me, thanking me for saving them. I ate more than I care to admit, my people just kept insisting. Most of us slept on the ground under the stars, breathing the clean night air. I suppose part of what made it such a happy memory was the sadness that followed. But that was the happiest day of the war for me. And that is the best you can do. There are no good days in war, but you have to remember to find happiness even in the bad times.  
  
\--  
  
Once you choose to go down the path of the Dark Side, it affects you. It wasn’t all at once for me, but I had asked Anakin to show me the dark, and more and more it crept into me, in my actions and thoughts. Even though I still cared for him, I could not stay with him or the dark might have consumed me. I would never be a Jedi either, I could not stay pure knowing that such awful things happened to innocent people. Some people deserved to have things taken from them for what they’d done. After being expelled from the Jedi Order for a crime I didn’t commit, I was happy to walk away.  
  
I only connected with Anakin one more time through the Dark Side after that. It was after the last time I saw him. We had been apart for months and when I met him, he was weakened with emotion, rushing off to save the Chancellor. I sensed danger as I had before Zygerria. A few days later, I reached out to find him. Something was happening. He didn’t feel my presence in his mind, his attention was directed elsewhere.  
  
When I connected with him, I felt cold. He was so filled with fear, anger, hate, pain. He was speaking to someone, searching the galaxy for them, but I didn’t know who it was. ‘I feel your presence. Who are you?... You are strong in the Force. Do you see all I see? Do you know all I know?...Wait! Don’t go! It hurts so much! Please don’t leave me alone!’  
  
I was pushed out by his anger as his mind slammed shut to everyone. I don’t know who he was talking to. I had no connection to them so I could not hear what he did. You ask me though, he’d actually done it. One of the worst things I knew he’d always felt was that there was no one else in the galaxy like him and he was constantly lonely. Therefore, I think that he had made someone. He had always thought he could do anything. I was afraid of what would come from this. If the Jedi found out, he would probably be imprisoned for defying the Order, rather than expelled. Making children was one of the most serious crimes a Jedi could commit. There was also no way the Sith would allow it. Another being as powerful as him would be too great a threat to their power. I realized how dangerous this was for Anakin. He would have needed this baby desperately. He had always longed for a family. He hadn’t been able to save his mother. He would have done anything to save his baby. That was the danger.  
  
From what I knew about his childhood, Anakin needed to be loved, to make him live a life without it just didn’t seem fair. When I saw the holo-net news coverage on Padme’s funeral, I knew the baby was gone too. I resolved then to fight to avenge the injustice that had been done.  
  
I decided to take up my mission. The galaxy’s hero couldn’t save us because he was gone, either dead or somewhere destroyed by grief, so it was up to us, the free people of the galaxy, to fight back. I knew my purpose was to keep people inspired, to rally hope to resist the Sith.  
  
I figured that I could build on my reputation and be an inspirational mascot like in my old school book days. I began to build a network of like-minded beings. I had a great deal of knowledge and experience from the war, I had traveled extensively. I rallied resistance in places like Onderon, where I was already famous. I enlisted the help of our old friends and makeshift family.  
  
My connection to Anakin was useful. What happened to him was universally viewed as tragic. Everyone thought he was dead but hoped he was alive. His whispered name was a symbol of hope. I felt pride that I was the one who kept his memory alive. I was also proud that people respected me and had heard of my deeds.  
  
I spent some time with Senator Bail Organa on Alderaan as we organized the Rebellion in the early days. We had become friends through Padme. The senator had adopted a daughter, Leia, in Padme’s honor, from a refugee orphanage on Naboo. I taught her how to shoot a blaster. I was actually good at it. Anakin had taught me. He had always insisted that we know how to shoot so that we could better lead the clones in battle. ‘Look behind you as well as ahead,’ he used to say. I used to tell Leia stories about Jedi, about Obi-Wan, about Anakin, about me. Leia always loved my ‘fairy tales’. But when Leia would reenact the stories in her imaginary games, she always wanted to be Ahsoka. I loved her like my own niece. Family is not just blood, it is about whom you love and who loves you.  
  
\--  
  
“So what made it so good?” Ezra roused me from my thoughts.  
  
“I was with my friends. I had faith in them. I had faith in myself. It had been rewarded. I felt strong. I thought we’d all won.”  
  
“Kanan says that nobody really wins in a war.”  
  
“I know. I didn’t mean the war, I meant we’d won because we were happy. Bad times come and go, the important part is that we never lose our ability to feel joy.” I put my arm around his shoulder.  
  
Later, after I’d cleaned up, I found Ezra again. He was with his crew, sitting in the hangar laughing and joking with them. He and Kanan were both smiling. I guess they’d made up.  
  
I found Rex working on his favorite stolen imperial shuttle with a bunch of the younger recruits. He was telling a story and they were chuckling, “So the droid says something about how I don’t sound right, he says to take off my helmet. I duck down and hold up a droid head in front of the camera like a puppet. He opens the door and I blow their heads off. Roger, roger.” The kids cracked up. I had actually never heard that one.  
  
“How is it going, Rex?”  
  
“Eh, it’s got every problem possible but a dianoga in the plumbing,” he shrugged. “But we like a challenge, don’t we, kids?” Some of them nodded and smiled.  
  
“Are you headed out?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah, we’re just going on a scouting mission once we get this thing together. We’ve been having a little competition to try to come up with the stupidest aliases. If we get captured, I’d like to hear those arrogant imperials say idiotic sounding names back at us.”  
  
“Really?” I smiled. If they were captured, they’d be in danger, but humor probably couldn’t make their situation any worse.  
  
“Yeah, Snaps Flappy, Dippy Doo-dah, Snuggle Wuggle-kins stuff like that. The kids have some better ones.” Like I said, Rex had never lost his sense of humor.  
  
The image of a snide imperial officer repeating those was too much. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes. “And just what are you using, Rex?”  
  
“I think we both know, I have a love of the classics.”  
  
I was seized with laughter, “Darts D’Nar?”  
  
“Nah, I thought I’d go with Miraj Scintel.”


End file.
